


judas or john

by p394



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 13:26:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16787833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p394/pseuds/p394
Summary: Harry knew someone was watching him in the forest that night, but this time he acts on it.  He hadn't expected to put a chain of events into motion which would have him battle with the question of Snape's loyalties.





	judas or john

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired from my super talented friend ravn! any typos or grammatical errors are my own, i don't have a beta. if you'd like to be a beta for future chapters, please messages me! and please follow ravn's amazing harry potter art twitter PrinceWhoLived

_“For you will certainly carry out God's purpose, however you act, but it makes a difference to you whether you serve like Judas or like John.”_  
― C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

  
  


***

  
  


The silver white doe came to a sudden halt; she turned her beautiful head towards Harry once more, long-lashed eyes sparkling and begging him closer. He broke into a run; he needed to be near her. Her presence meant safety, something he wanted to cling to by his fingernails. Though a question bubbled on his tongue, and when Harry opened his mouth to ask it, she vanished. 

Disoriented and swallowed by the darkness, he blinked away the bright image that she burnt into his retinas. Harry trusted his instincts. He didn’t believe the doe was something created by dark magic, but fear still came. Almost by reflex he reassuringly squeezed Hermione’s wand. 

“Lumos!” he whispered, and the wand-tip ignited. 

With the forest lit, the space suddenly made him feel very small. Had she led him into an ambush? Harry breathed out slowly, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He furrowed his brows in concentration, unable to shake the feeling someone was watching him beyond reach of wandlight. He stood still and listened to the sounds of the forest, and narrowed his gaze almost imperceptively. 

He held his wand higher. Nobody ran out at him, no flash of green, yet something felt...off. Why had she led him here? 

He caught sight, in his peripheral, through the thicket of trees a figure loomed out of the darkness. He didn’t let on to this stranger, though, and began to lower his wand. 

“Stupefy!” Harry shouted, a blinding red light shooting in his onlooker’s direction. 

There was a loud slamming noise as they leapt away from the attack, smashing their body into a nearby tree to avoid being stunned. Snape had fallen from his cover, black hair straggling his thin face. He looked rather stricken, almost agitated, before flapping back into the woods. 

Harry flushed with fury, hatred flashing through his green eyes. It might’ve been a trap, but his body responded without permission, so he chased after Snape. Harry knew better than to let anger cloud his judgment (Ginny would tell him to breathe (( but there was a third voice in his head encouraging him to let it spill over)) ). Harry threw a flurry of hexes in Snape’s direction, who skillfully evaded each one. 

Frustratingly, Snape never countered. 

Shaking from rage, Harry felt the same helplessness he’d experienced after Dumbledore’s murder; his shoulders heaved as he sucked down oxygen and screamed, “ _ Crucio! _ ” This curse, however, Snape was not lucky enough to avoid. Harry found a savage delight in how Snape was in so much agony his legs gave against his own body weight. 

For one trembling second, Harry fascinatingly watched the helpless black eyes that stared up at him. He approached Snape with a predatory deliberateness, eyelids flickering in memory. Harry had seen the cruciatus curse used before. 

“Tsk,” Harry grunted under his breath, ending the spell with a flick of the wrist.

Snape said nothing and stared widely at him, though Harry suspected he might’ve screamed if the wind weren’t forced out of his lungs. 

Harry was unsympathetic and flexed his fingers around his wand. 

He dropped to his knees and pinned Snape with one hand, using the other to place his wand against Snape’s throat. Harry must’ve looked rather frightening, and a bit mad.   
  
“Why are you here?” Murmured Harry impatiently, twisting the wood deeper into Snape’s neck. Barely breathing Harry stared down at him. How did Snape find them? Did he come alone? Nobody had attacked him yet, and Harry was now convinced no one else would. 

Snape was sweating, too shocked to struggle. He looked breathless and watched Harry with a growing horror. “Potter -” he began, but was interrupted. 

“Were you spying on me?” He hissed through clenched teeth, sharp gaze narrowing. “Or did you want to deliver me to him yourself?” 

There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control over himself. He had a faraway look in his eyes when his stare flicked onto Harry’s throat. “I suggest you keep your mouth shut for a moment and think.” His replied stiffly, trying disguise his haggard breathing

Clearly Harry didn’t listen and his face darkened, desperate to dig his nails into the delicate flesh underneath the sleeve of Snape’s robe. “Why?” It was a very child-like response. 

“ _ Harry _ ,” That caught his attention. “The locket.” Snape’s voice was gentle, the warning oddly paternal. “Take it off before you do something you regret.” 

He blinked hurriedly. Harry had forgotten all about the Horcrux around his neck. Realisation slipped through Harry like a knife through soft innards; he’d allowed Voldemort to get the best of him. 

_ Don’t let him get in your head _ , Harry firmly reminded himself.

He stared at Snape for a moment as if he were holding something explosive. The anger in his mind began to dissolve and was replaced with frustration, confusion, and shame. “No,” Harry snapped. “You’re just trying to protect yourself.” Snape didn’t blink. “You can’t expect me to listen after you murdered the man who gave you a second chance - who trusted you!”

“Neither of us can die today, Potter.” The neutral expression not leaving Snape’s face but Harry knew he had to force the look. “You need to take the locket off.” He repeated. 

Harry inclined his head, feeling sick. “Why did you do it?” 

Snape’s lips tightened. 

“Tell me why you killed Dumbledore.” Harry ordered. 

Snape laid motionlessly on the ground, not even twitching a finger at Harry’s question. He breathed deeply, chest rising, and shut his eyes. “Because it had to be done.” 

“Because You-Know-Who wanted it.” Harry said quietly. 

“Because it was the only way,” Snape corrected.

Harry swallowed thickly. “Only way?” He scoffed. “To save your life, maybe.” 

“My death wouldn’t be useful to anyone.” Snape remarked dryly, with no further explanation. 

Both men were utterly still as they weighed up the situation, and Harry eyed Snape wearily. 

And then Harry almost had it... but the thought slipped away from him. 

Harry’s shoulders slacked in acquiescence, feeling suddenly exhausted, and nodded silently with eyes downcast. 

Snape raised his hand to the chain of the necklace, pale fingers scraping against the metal before sliding it off Harry’s head. 

The locket fell to the snowy ground with a cushioned thud. 

“Better?” Asked Snape in a strangely tender voice, as he spread his hands in surrender. 

Of course, Harry felt a huge surge of relief and he would nod politely. He felt more comfortable without the Horcrux’s influence but remained conscious of the threat Snape posed. Oddly, Harry trusted that Snape wouldn’t attack, so he rose to his feet. 

Harry tore his eyes of Snape and studied the locket dispassionately; in his peripheral he could see Snape grappling for his wand. 

“I do hope you’re right,” Harry said quite evenly. “About your death not being useful.” 

There was a cracking noise, loud like thunder, of Snape disapparating. Harry hadn’t needed to look to know he left with a sneer on his face. 

He wiped a finger over his teeth, unsure why he let Snape get away; he stood in the snow for a very long time.

  
  


*** 

  
  


Getting back to the tent seemed much lengthier without the doe leading him.  _ It’s a bloody big forest _ , he thought. Harry walked for a better half of an hour, hands chapped from the cold dug deeply into his pockets. His tired face was difficult to discern in the dark night, questions buzzing around his head. Why had Snape been here?

A terrible scream shattered the night.

Panic flashed across Harry’s face. He ran towards the sound, heart racing so fast. Unlike when he pursued Snape, Harry felt only fear for his friend. He could hear Hermione struggling, as though she was in a furious pain. 

He came through the thicket, wand raised, but did not cast reducto. Instead, he blinked in astonishment. Hermione hadn’t been howling in agony, she was screaming at Ron. A broken noise sobbed its way from Harry’s lips in a pitiful attempt to laugh, demanding the attention of his friends. 

“Harry -” Ron sounded equal parts concerned and grateful; he needed backup for Hermione. His body was soaked and wool clothes clung to his skin, firey hair freezing. Ron had a white knuckled grip around the Sword of bloody Gryffindor. “You alright, mate?” 

“I’m fine. Better than fine.” Harry began to walk towards Ron with an excited pace. “Perfect actually.” 

The boys’ reunion was interrupted by Hermione’s sharp voice. “Give me my wand, Harry,” she demanded, approaching him. Harry, frightened, retreated back towards the forest. “How did you even find us?” She viciously snapped a Ron. 

Flustered, Ron pointed at Harry. Hermione had successfully reverted him back to a red-faced child. “I saw his patronus!”    
  
With Hermione’s fury focused onto him, Harry nearly dove behind Ron. “I didn’t cast a patronus charm! It was Snape!” 

She stopped and after a beat or two of strained silence, the fearful confusion crept across her face. “What do you mean it was Snape?” 

  
  


***

  
  


"But that’s what I don’t understand, Hermione,” Harry groaned. “So Ron was able to find the sword _ and  _ us because of Snape? Why would he do that?”

Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully, tapping the table. Ron, now wrapped in a blanket, placed a supportive hand on her knee. Whatever ill feelings were left between them had dissipated. Harry noticed Ron’s thumb circling patterns through the denim of her jeans. “Maybe he’s not actually working for You-Know-Who. It’s…” she paused. “ _ Possible _ he’s still loyal to Dumbledore after all this time.” 

“Snape said killing Dumbledore was the only way,” Harry offered the information tentatively, reflecting on the unfamiliar softness in the potion master’s voice. Harry wondered what he looked like, because Hermione quickly squeezed his hand reassuringly. 

“Wait so…” Ron spoke up. “First he was a double agent for Dumbledore, then he was a triple agent for You-Know-Who, and now he could be a  _ quadruple agent _ for us?” He scrunched his nose, exasperated. “Blimey, Snape really needs to pick a side and stick with it.” 

“If he’s still,” Hermione deliberately stressed the word. “A spy for Dumbledore, we can’t expose him or it might ruin -”    
  


She was cut off by Harry’s interjection, “But we can’t just put our faith in him without knowing what side he’s on!” 

“He’s got a point, Hermione,” Ron agreed. “We have no idea where his loyalties really are.” 

Hermione sighed, “Then if the opportunity presents itself to talk to him, we should take it. If he is on our side, he could get us into the castle.” 


End file.
